


Cracked and Broken

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 4x08, Episode Related, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1676006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey sees Ian in his kitchen talking with Mandy and it causes him to feel like he isn’t enough for Ian, like Ian doesn’t deserve to be stuck with someone like him. Ian helps him see the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cracked and Broken

Mickey had heard Ian and Mandy talking long before he had seen them. They were sitting at their little table laughing over a cup of coffee. Probably at a stupid joke that Ian had told her or just the general state of their lives.

Ian looked like he _belonged_ here. Like he was right at home with Mandy in Mickey’s kitchen.

It terrified him because he wanted for that to be true. He wanted, desperately, that fucking Gallagher would want to stay here, stay with him. But he knew it wasn’t something he could ever have.

Something that he didn’t fucking deserve. But something that he wanted so fucking much he’s afraid it would kill him, kill Ian.

He didn’t remember walking to the bathroom, but he slammed the door behind him.

 “Mickey?” Ian called. _Of course firecrotch would follow._

“Can’t a guy take a piss in private?” Mickey responded.

Ian opened the door and closed it gently behind him. He leaned against it, his arms crossed over his chest. Mickey wanted to punch him, kiss him, hold him.

“You okay?” Ian asked after a minute of them just staring at each other.

“’M fine,” Mickey mumbled and turned to face the sink in an attempt to pretend he came in here to do something.

“Yeah? Cause you didn’t look fine when you saw me sitting with Mandy.” Ian pushed himself off the door and came to stand next to Mickey. “Do you want me to go?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Mickey shot back as his eyes shifted to focus on Ian. _Traitors._

“Then what’s wrong?” Ian asked as his hand came out to rest on Mickey’s shoulder.

Mickey looked down and rubbed his hand along his mouth because _everything_ and _nothing_ was wrong. He was so fucking happy that Gallagher was here, eating fucking generic captain crunch in his kitchen and wearing Mickey’s shirts even though he stretches them out a little and he makes stupid jokes and looks at Mickey like he’s some sort of fucking hero that rescued him from the evil, geriatric, groping evil queens.

Mickey can’t tell him how much that scares him because any minute that could be taken away from him. Ian could be taken away from him. Ian could _choose_ to leave. And Mickey would be left once again alone with no fucking hope.

He wants to be able to tell Ian this, _knows_ that Ian wouldn’t think less of him or judge him. Hell the kid would probably be so fucking glad that Mickey’s talking to him about his fucking feelings and other gay shit like that.

It kills Mickey that he can’t fucking tell Ian that he missed him so much that it had felt like he was dying, suffocating slowly from the inside. Like something inside him was giving up. How when Mickey saw him again in that shitty club, with the loud music and bright lights it felt like the first time his lungs had worked right since Ian had walked out of his room.

How every fucking time he looks at Ian his heart aches because he wants to be able to keep him here, for Ian to stay, and he’s terrified that Ian’s just going to run off again.

That _Mickey’s_ going to make Ian run off again.

And he’s pissed because he can’t get the words to come out. Even though he knows that if he doesn’t fucking try Ian’s going to walk out the door again.

Ian pulled him to his chest and Mickey didn’t even remember when it became hard to breathe.  When the burning behind his eyes started. But Ian’s holding him and Mickey’s got his wrist in a tight grip, fingers resting over his pulse. Mickey wanted to push him off, tell him to quit the gay shit, but he couldn’t.

He didn’t _want_ to. It felt so fucking good to be touched, treasured like Ian was doing right now. He held Mickey gently and mumbled shit into his shoulder, his jaw, about how it’ll be okay and that he’s not going anywhere and they’ll figure it out.

Mickey pulled away to kiss him—because he could and he _wanted_ to. It was the only way he could show Ian what he was feeling. He can only hope that it came across.

Ian’s hands stay gentle on him as he pressed him into the bathroom counter. It’s usually grabbing hands and sweat-slicked skin and the sense of _now_ and _quick!_ And this change was like an ice pack on a fevered forehead, calming and gentle.

It nearly shattered Mickey. And then Ian was turning him around, pulling Mickey’s back against his chest. Ian kept kissing down his neck, and Mickey still couldn’t believe that he been so afraid of this because it felt so fucking good.

And then Ian’s hand trailed down his stomach to Mickey’s dick and he was still so fucking gentle and it was unnerving and wonderful and made Mickey want to shout that he’s not fucking made of glass.

He opened his eyes and they catch on the mirror. The mirror that he had broken. It was cracked and Mickey’s reflection was distorted. It was only bits and pieces.

And then Ian’s head appeared on the non-broken side, just like how Mickey used to set up Ian’s picture. It felt horribly _right_ that Ian was so perfect and unbroken as Mickey stood there shattered and broken next to him. But it had always been that way:  Ian standing whole and proud while Mickey wasn’t.

His eyes looked at the cracks and saw the pieces were still there because the rest of the mirror was holding it together.

Mickey had to close his eyes because it was Ian holding him together. And god damn if Mickey hadn’t tried to do it on his own, but when you’re already broken you need some glue and Ian was that glue for him. And maybe if he wasn’t so fucking terrified of what tomorrow was going to bring, of what he was going to do when Terry got out, of what might happen with Svetlana and that baby, of Ian running away from him, he’d have been able to do it alone.

“I got you,” Ian whispered, his touch still gentle but somehow feeling like sparks and flames.

Mickey threw his head back, colliding roughly with Ian’s shoulder. His right hand reached out for Ian’s leg, grabbing tightly.

And suddenly Ian’s mouth was on his again and it was beautiful and gay and scary as shit but it felt right. It felt right in a way that nothing had every felt before.

Mickey came over Ian’s hand but mostly in the sink. He kept his eyes closed as Ian pushed closer to rinse his hand and clean the sink quickly.

Ian’s arm was still around his waist, his head resting on his shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. ‘M fine.” Mickey said quietly.

It didn’t stop Mickey from turning and pressing his face against Ian’s chest. His hands hesitantly resting at Ian’s hips, unable to bring them around the other boy. He promised himself right there that he would try, truly try, to be everything Ian wanted, everything he deserved. Because he sure as hell didn’t deserve to be stuck with someone like Mickey. He deserved someone who could kiss him in public, who wasn’t terrified to be seen with him, who could do all that cuddly stupid shit that Ian always wanted to do.

Ian pressed his lips to the side of Mickey’s head and just held him. He didn’t say anything.

Standing there with Ian made Mickey feel strong for the first time since before Ian left. He felt like his world was slowly balancing itself again. Because Ian was here, with him, and showing him that that’d get through things together. 

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this idea for a while because I think it’s really important that these two get back on equal footing. And I’m a little saddened that we didn’t get a lot of them as a couple this season (Cam not being around aside). It just felt like they were teetering on the edge and so I need some fix-its. 
> 
> It’s written in response to some of the posts I’ve seen talking about that mirror scene with Mickey and Ian’s picture. I am incredibly sorry, but I can’t seem to find it and I thought I liked it. But either way, the idea of how gently Mickey touched the photo and how harsh he was on himself just felt like the perfect parallel. And I really don’t think Mickey’s used to that gentleness that Ian is just made of. 
> 
> Originally posted on my [tumblr.](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/post/86509512518/fic-a-day-in-may-day-twenty-two)


End file.
